


(not a) kiss with a fist

by ashen_key



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Comment Fic, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashen_key/pseuds/ashen_key
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She kissed him like it would solve anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(not a) kiss with a fist

**Author's Note:**

> Written because the lj community **be_compromised** is having an impromptu kissing fest. One of the prompts was for angry!kissing, and this is about as close as my versions of the characters will get. 
> 
> Set during the rough patch my versions of Clint and Natasha have post-canon, around the time of [An Apology (of a Kind)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/446533).

She wasn't angry. 

_Angry_ meant that she stood still and hissed at him, until that wasn't enough so she gestured and screamed. _Angry_ meant slammed doors if she had to move, because she refused to go near him if the argument had gotten bad enough for raised voices. _Angry_ meant she wanted to be as far away from him as possible, in case one of them lost their temper enough to hit or threaten. Once upon a time, Natasha had to clean up her sister's boyfriend's blood from the kitchen floor, because they'd been arguing, and Olya had reacted automatically to being hit. Scrubbing blood from tiles at two in the morning wasn't something Natasha particularly enjoyed, and she had no desire for that blood to be Clint's. 

Still, even if she _wasn't_ angry, she could feel anger stirring. That in itself was making her irritated, and she glared at Clint across the table. He himself was reading the novel on his lap, to all intents and purposes ignoring her.

Except there he was, opening his mouth, and – 

“Don't say anything,” Natasha said. 

Clint raised his eyebrows, glanced at her. “What was I gonna say?”

“Something petty. And I don't want to hear it.”

“You're a mind-reader, now?”

“You're predictable,” she said, pushing her chair out.“And I know what you're doing.”

He kept his eyebrows raised and leaned back in his chair, watching as she walked around to him. Maybe it was a bit more of a stalk than a walk. “What am I doing?”

“Being a jackass. Can't work out if it's some kind of bullshit test to see if I'm sticking around or- Shut up,” she added, and kissed him hard. 

Her actions were not a surprise in so far as he couldn't see what she was doing as she leaned in, put her hand on his jaw (and she meant that, because startling the other was always a bad idea with them, too many instincts), but if _she_ didn't know where the impulse came from, he must have been more confused. 

It didn't stop him – after a startled moment – from responding, either. His hand was in her hair, clenching it and twisting, and her fingers dug into his shoulder only partly for balance. Stupid, stubborn, _aggravating_ man; she kissed him like it would solve anything, like it'd prove what her words and her presence didn't seem to. 

The anger-tinged frustration fuelling the kiss was too unsettling to last. It wasn't long before there was less teeth than at the start, their mouths moving in more of a caress than a mutual bite. 

“I love you,” Natasha said once she could, resting her forehead against his. “And the only reason I'd leave is if I want to. So _stop_ being such a dick, would you?”

“'Tasha,” he said, voice soft in ways that always made the butterflies in her stomach start trying to escape. She'd killed a man surrounded by butterflies, once. _Butterflies_ , even metaphorical ones in stomachs, were not things to be trusted, and her mouth curled wryly. Clint untangled his hand from her hair, and down to cup her jaw. “I'm sorry,” he said, and that wasn't quite the point. 

Still, his hand fell to her hip and he tugged her in closer, and she decided to go with it. Slinging a leg over his, Natasha straddled his lap, settling in close and curling an arm around his shoulders. 

This time, the kiss was slow, and their mouths lingered over each other's. As his hands ducked underneath her shirt to caress her bare skin, she found herself being able to relax enough that she could shut her eyes and enjoy his overture of peace.


End file.
